


Cell Block E

by wherewestart



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2020-05-14 03:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19265185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherewestart/pseuds/wherewestart
Summary: Nicole Haught has seen better days, she gets caught for stealing and ends up in jail. Her first 24 hours are fast and chaotic as she meets Waverly and Wynonna Earp who have may have a plan up their sleeve and Nicole is now along for the ride





	1. The Arrest

**Author's Note:**

> Figured I would put this here just as a warning, there is quick descriptions of the jail, and that includes what things may or may not be used for self harm - the characters do not self harm, these are just descriptions of objects and what they may be used for.

You know why you’re here. You know what you did. You deserve this. The cold metal against the the small of your back is a reminder. The ache in your shoulders from an unnatural position as every bump you hit sitting in the back of the transport van has you thinking about what is to come. This is your fault and congratu- fucking- lations you got caught. You thought you got away with it but the loud voices and battering ram on your front door had a different idea as you sat there in your glory about to take a shower. The bangs, the wall shaking pounding seconds a part and the officers rushing in and tackling you to the musty carpet knew exactly where you were and where you were going. They handcuffed you half naked but one of the officers was nice enough to toss your jeans and blue t- shirt at your face as they searched your small apartment and momentarily removed the restraints. You smirked as you negotiated your clothes over cuts and inevitable bruises, signs you tried to maintain your fake innocence.

 

There are two other people in the transport van with you. What are they in for? No. Stop that shit. This is a about you from here on in.

 

One poor soul will not shut up- raven haired, leather wearing, foul mouthed drunk babbling nonsense about demons, and her feet keep touching your new Pumas, she better be ready for detox.

 

The other is quiet, you have a feeling he has been here before. How the fuck did they let him keep his cowboy hat? Frequent flier bullshit.

 

The handcuffs are tight, they got tighter every time you talked back and the officers kept clipping them shut down to the bone, you know that’s not water around your wrists but the warm , wet, slippery blood from the arrogant, frustrated friction escaping from your body movements for the last few hours.

 

Your short red hair keeps brushing in front of your eyes, nose and lips. The things you would do for a hair tie in this moment are unspeakable. The light brushes of the hair strands are triggering the burning feeling of a sneeze about to escape but it feels trapped, so now your nose is slightly plugged with snot and eyes are watering. You are officially a mess.

 

It felt like an eternity but finally the jolting of the vans brakes let you know you arrived, your toes digging in to your shoes and the floor catching your body weight from falling forward feels like a victory, face planting on metal was not what you needed right now. You then heard the clicks of the locks and bangs on the back door,  you squinted at the harsh moonlight when the doors finally opened and commands to move from deep raspy voices stung your ears. You have arrived.

 

The harsh grip of a hand to your bicep leads you to a cold, ripped furniture, disgustingly dirty room where you sit again. They tell you what you were charged with, they try to be your friend because they aren’t in this shit and have to deal with consequences, but you sure as shit have to. They remove your cuffs, and you press the tip of your tongue to your back tooth listening to their bullshit charges and half attempts of a pep talk, a weak intervention, but you know you _had_ to do what you did. They take your fingerprints, they snap large flashes of light in your face and you can’t wait to see the hot mess of a photo that’ll end up on the nightly news.

 

They toss you in the drunk tank because of overcrowding and tell you the phone is available. There isn’t a receiver on the phone because the cord that use to be there is a threat and opportunity for people who see it as a way out. Assholes. You are tall but have to stand on the bench and put your ear against the microphone and ear piece. Who knows how many peoples faces and mouths this “phone” has touched.

 

You dial one number on the wall, then your next three calls are numbers from memory.

 

Your bail is too high, bondsman won’t help you.

 

You weren’t suppose to be in this situation, your mom hangs up on you.

 

You weren’t suppose to be in this situation, your dad hangs up on you.

 

You did this because you thought you loved someone, they hang up on you.

 

The bench you hop back down on to feels like something you’d use in a park. It’s simple, cold, there’s shit carved in to it you have no idea how it got there, appears to be the professions of love between two sets of initials and hearts, enough to make a grown woman puke and to top it off  it’s not wide enough to lay down on.

 

You sit there and sigh, feel sorry for yourself for a minute but the door opens and interrupts your thoughts. In comes the familiar face of the raven haired woman, great, fruit loops spewing shit about demons at 3am is just what you need. You watch her carefully, she is more quiet this time, must have been the charismatic guards putting bruises on your bicep, she is slowing rubbing hers, you sympathize for a split second but then remember you both now were without handcuffs – not protecting you from yourself or from each other. She doesn’t use the phone, that was weird to you, but it didn’t require you to move so you’re good with that. You don’t speak to her, instead you try to get comfortable in the most uncomfortable place for even just a few minutes of shut eye.

 

The guards call you again and informs you of being placed in to general population in the jail because no one would help you get out, or so you understood, at 5am, with little to no sleep. She couldn’t even tell you when you’d see a judge. You have no idea how long you’ll be here.

 

The female guard puts you in another tiny dirty room and tells you to strip off all your clothes, you comply because what the fuck else are you going to do. She informs you that you need to bend over and spread your ass cheeks wide, cough hard,  just to make sure you aren’t a secret weapons dealer or drug mule. The moment felt like minutes but deep down you know it lasted 3 seconds. The poor girl didn’t want to stare at your asshole just as much as you didn’t want to stare at the cockroach crawling up the wall as you are bent over. She then searches the rest of your shivering body, the least they could do is turn on the fucking heat. You also don’t get your fucking clothes back, instead you get a sorry excuse for an outfit.

 

It was late in the night, shit, early in the morning by now you think. Your new found fashion of orange and white stripes doesn’t match your short red hair, clashing shades and all, the shoes could rival a pair of black vans but you know better- even sleep deprived. Vans have a thicker sole and a rubber label that that melts with the heel so perfectly, these are busting at the toe. Then under all that is a pair of underwear and a bra that was so thread bare and stained you prayed they were actually clean.

 

Your new guard buddy walks you through the jail, you keep your head down toward the cracking cement floor, she then tosses you in a cell up a flight of stairs. There is a steel bunk bed, some shit that resembles a mattress,  gray walls, steel toilet- you wonder where the fuck the lid is but you remember every goddamn accessory is either considered a weapon or a self harm inflictor.

 

The door slams behind you and you look out the small, long, narrow window looking out to similar doors and a common area. You see others that are cell warriors banging their fists on their own windows calling you out, the new girl, fresh fucking meat. You think about acting like you murdered someone, start yelling and cursing at nothing, like you have a screw loose, but you know that’s a bad idea, you’d rather be with the general population than stuck in a cell alone on lockdown. For now, you suck it up and sleep. Damnit, you try to sleep, but the guard drags in a girl, the fucking fruit loop is some how your new celly and won’t shut the fuck up about demons with the added bonus that her hangover is emptying itself into the only toilet in the room, the echoes of gagging and the smell are enough to make anyone puke.

 

You lay back in the top bunk. You like being on top, at least up here your new roommate won’t puke on you. You run your fingertips on the cold cement wall next to you. The carvings and initials of inmates past is a solemn reminder you aren’t alone in the piss poor decision making process. You sleep with that comfort, for now.

 

——

 

The next morning you wake up, groggy and some loud ass voice is coming through a speaker somewhere in your cell, blabbing about feeding time. The itchy wool blanket you suspect is covered in shit left a rash on your arms. You hear the click of the lock on your door, freedom sounds close but confined freedom at that and you need to look alert as your cell mate is snoring below you.

 

You leave your cell and join the others in the common room down the steel staircase, stopping at the last step. Your instincts kick in, you eye the guards, three in total surrounding the room. Two of them were at a built up station in the middle of the room, you know they were just the ones you could see, dozens of others are roaming the building for floors and floors of inmates awaiting trial. You were suppose to be on the other side of the law once upon a time, confident, hands on the hips, I’m in charge now attitude they exude, now look at you – one mistake for love, _idiot_.

 

You then eye the room as you took the last step. It was larger than you previously thought. No surprise it was all females roaming around, or what the government considers that term. There were six tables scattered throughout, and the surrounding walls have showers on one side, phones on the other and a few cells. You notice each table has their crew, the leader sitting on the table, the rest sitting hunched over their breakfast on the curve benches and you know you don’t have an allegiance to anyone nor do ever want one. You are here awaiting trial. That’s it. Nothing more. You take a deep breath at the inmates starting to take notice, the loud whistles, the hoots, the hollers. Being catcalled on the street was one thing, being catcalled with nowhere to run was another. You were scared for half a second, sure, but welcome home Nicole Haught.

 

You found an empty table after you grabbed some grub, it looked like cafeteria food except it didn’t look like food at all, certainly didn’t smell like it either. Each compartment in the tray was a different color mush you had no fucking idea what it was suppose to be, but you are hungry.

 

  _Shit_ , _welcome home Nicole Haught_.

 

You wanted to be alone. “Sup, Red,” you hear behind you. The raven haired girl heaves her body weight to seat next to you. You eye a glimpse. How the fuck is her hair so perfect after the night she had? Effortlessly falling on her shoulders. Asshole. “What’s your name?”you ask, but you already know by looking at her inmate badge clipped to the baggy fabric of her orange stripes.

 

“Wynonna Earp.” She responds with a raspy voice you know well as the hangover coupled with a certain smugness you can’t place yet. She stares at you, sizes you up and flicks your inmate badge with her finger. “Nicole….Haught,” she says this with a smirk you already want to smack off her face. She continues, “you might want to flip that around with a name like that, you’ll never hear the end of it.” She then steals your apple juice. Sure it was expired, but it was the only thing that resembled real food. This woman has managed to infuriate every cell in your body in just ten minutes, but she is also your celly and you like to not get dead in your sleep so you let her have it. It’s not that she completely intimidates you, she is definitely confident, but you now notice some subtle empathic qualities in her body language, even if she is stealing your shit.

 

You notice another woman is walking up to your table, she must eat and sleep exercise, her bicep is about as big your head, her tattoos cover most of the skin she is showing and she has a buzz cut you could tell was fresh. She sits down across from you both, crinkles her nose and sniffs in a burst of air, a lame intimidation tactic, she then stares at you both and clasps her hands together like the goddamn Godfather. You hate that movie.

 

“She wants to see you now.” She says this between you and Wynonna, and like you have a fucking clue who ‘she’ is. You start to stand up because you’re an idiot who thinks they can take on this person that just so blasé interrupted your breakfast. You feel a hand to your arm, Wynonna is pulling you back towards gravity. The gesture felt nice, like you two have been friends forever and she knew just what to do to stop you from wrecking your face.

 

“I’m not ready yet.” Wynonna says. You subtly shake your head because of course she was talking to Wynonna.

 

Bicep continues, “I don’t give a shit, you’re coming, let’s go.” Bicep stands up ready to pounce and you’re not ready for a black eye.

 

Wynonna stands up, ready for a black eye. “Alright I’ll come, but I’m bringing my crew with me.”

 

Great your new _friend_ already has a crew, you knew she’s been here before.

 

She grabs your arm again except this time forces you against gravity. Shit, you’re her crew. Let the fucking games begin, you’ve been here less than twelve hours and already caught up in this shit, just like the past six months of your life, this is no different. You think there is no reason to protest, Bicep already pissed you off, you didn’t get to have your apple juice and I guess there would be worse people to follow around other than miss perfect fucking hair.

 

You follow Bicep and Wynonna to a far table where six other inmates are crowding one person, you can’t see this person but you already know you’re going to hate them.

 

Wynonna turned around and offered a low voice to you, “whatever happens just follow my lead.” You instinctively clench your fist, something about Wynonna makes you go in to fight mode.

 

The inmates part to either side of this person and she wasn’t what you expected. You don’t want to admit she took your breath away for a split second but here you are. She looks feisty as fuck, and probably the only person in the room that can pull off the orange stripes, they actually highlight her long brown hair and sun kissed skin. You think it’s not fair - all of those advantages, but you’re not complaining.

 

“Wynonna.” The woman sitting says this all pissy and you can cut the tension with a knife. You hope there isn’t an actual knife.

 

“Baby girl!” Wynonna yells back and opens her arms for a hug, but the other woman denies the hug and you internally smirk at the fact that Wynonna was just burned. The woman smiles at you and you realize that smirk wasn’t internal. You also realize this person has a smile that just lit your entire body on fire.

 

Wynonna continues just as she jabs a quick fist into your side at the reaction. This woman is insufferable.

 

“What no love for your sister, Waverly? I haven’t seen you in forever!”

 

Of course they are sisters. Same damn perfect hair, cut jaw lines and what the hell have you gotten yourself in to Haught, fighting families are never good.

 

Waverly looks back at you, almost with the same curiosity you are looking at her with, you think, and secretly hope. You know she could get you in trouble, but for now you’re friends with the one person she doesn’t seem to like very much.

 

Waverly calls off her wall of human protection. You’re impressed she has so many people in her crew, terrified, but impressed. It’s just you, Wynonna and Waverly, and 50 others within reach, but private time isn’t really a thing here. Waverly purses her full, soft looking lips, as if she is trying to contain herself from her own actions or words. “Wynonna, I’m here because of you. They charged me with so many things I may be locked up the rest of my life. Because of you. So forgive me if I’m not happy to see you.”

 

You know Waverly isn’t playing around. And now you are re- thinking about following Wynonna around. You notice Wynonna subtlety cringe at the facts and Waverly continues,“I have a way out of this with or without your help. But if you have any integrity left you’ll help me.”

 

Damn, Waverly is cold, you like that about her but wonder what she was like before. You know what you were like before, you enjoyed the before you – happy, healthy, career driven, the shell you walk in now is a far cry from it but you know you’re still in there someone. You wonder if Waverly is too.

 

Waverly continues as Wynonna folded her arms in disbelief.

 

“I need Doc too, I heard through the line you came in with him. Let him know we all need to talk privately.”

 

Wynonna laughed, “damn Waves you telling the whole jail our business?”

 

Waves. You like that nickname, it’s cute, short and probably reminiscent of better days far behind them. Waverly didn’t flinch at the nickname so you guess you can use it too. With a nickname like Doc, you figure that must be the suburban cowboy you rode in with.

 

Waverly nodded in your direction, “And lose your new friend, this is between family.”

 

Ouch, that one stung, and you know it’s showing on your face because you had to close your mouth shut, Waverly looked at you for a few seconds too long and you know that she is sorry, you think, but it still hurt the same. You can’t quite figure out why the sting happened though, because they are strangers and this is jail, it’s everyone for themselves at the end of the day, you don’t actually give a fuck.

 

Your inner urges win and you speak up, “wow… well, aren’t you a ray of shine shine? What makes you think I want to be here.”

 

Waverly gives you another smile, you are sure no one has ever talked to her like that and live to tell about it.

 

Wynonna stuck up for you, “No, no, we need Red. She’s tall so she can reach shit and you should see her abs, her physical fitness will help us out I’m sure with…. whatever bullshit you concocted.”

 

You notice Waverly licking her lips, this doesn’t upset you in the slightest.

 

“Fine, Wy, she can stay. But find a way to alert Doc. Tell him I’ll need him available in two days, after lights out.” Waverly stood and started for the showers, but Wynonna didn’t like her demands. “Two days!? Waves how the hell am I suppose to get a message to him in two days!?”

 

There was Waverly’s smile again, and there your body goes up in flames, _shit_.

 

“You’ll figure out Wy.” Waverly says this as she walks by you, you notice her turning back and eyeing you.

 

Wynonna was pissed and staring at you but you were busy trying to hide your feelings by biting your lower lip until Waverly couldn’t see your idiotic lusting face.

 

The shower curtain finally whipped shut and you could see Waverly’s calves and feet from the angle you were at, you were trying to be respectful but even her calves were cute, _shit_.

 

 Wynonna suggests you sit down with her, you comply because you want to know what the hell that whole situation about.

 

“Look Red. I’ll clearly need your help trying to get to Doc and for some stupid reason I trust you already. The long and short of all this is, the three of us did a job, one of many because our crew has a good reputation in the not so legal tasks, people pay a lot of money to keep their hands clean. This one was for breaking in to some fancy lawyers office to get some documents. Didn’t seem like a big deal till we accidentally set some alarms off. The building was huge, we all got separated. Waverly got caught and Doc and I made off clean. Unfortunately the people we did the job for are some powerful dick heads and want us dead now for tipping their hand to the law firm . I tried to get Waves out of here to protect her – fucking guards are crooked as shit, but nothing was working, so I took a crowbar to about 50 cars down Main Street the other night with Doc to get here to help her. So that’s what I’m going to do. Now, I spill my guts, you spill yours, we need to make this union quick and trustworthy, I have work to do.”

 

You sit there silent, trying to absorb everything. The charges you have against you will probably keep you locked up for as long as Waverly, what have you got to loose at this point?

 

“Ok, get comfortable.”

 

“I stole from a bank.” You didn’t get to finish because Wynonna interrupted, something you imagine will become a trend.

 

“Of course you robbed a bank, please tell me you wore a black ski mask? I could recognize that red hair from outer space.”

 

You sigh hard and rub the side of your face, you maintain-  this woman is insufferable.

 

“No, I didn’t rob a bank, and I didn’t wear a ski mask. I stole a certain safety deposit box but I did it the right way, it wasn’t a cheesy stick up, I did research, employee badges were made, I even wore that itchy skirt all the girls wear there to blend in, the whole nine yards. I did it because my girlfriend, ex now, got in to some shit, and the people she owed money to, this was the only way out. Unfortunately on the way out someone recognized me and said my real name, I didn’t think anyone heard but obviously they did and now here I am. Sad thing is I still have no idea what was inside the damn box because some red truck met me in an alley to retrieve it.”

 

You watch Wynonna look at you with the actual empathy you knew was there all along. She is rubbing her hands together and the look in her eye tells you her mind must be running a million miles a minute, then she speaks, “a red truck you say? Hm.  So you know what you’re doing, sort of, I can already tell you slipped up at least three times, we can talk about your finesse later. Look Red, are you in? Because I need to get a message to Doc today and I have start the process before rec time.”

 

You hate that nickname, it reminds you of your youth you’d rather forget, but looks like it going to stick around. You also don’t want to get any deeper into how you know what you’re doing. You don’t want to tell her you went to the police academy and studied hours upon hours of criminal justice. It is just embarrassing at this point that you threw your career away for love. You threw it all away because your girlfriend took a loan from some asshole to pay off secret gambling debts, then pissed the loan away in an underground poker game. Your faith in people is low, but you know this could be a way out for your stupid decisions. “Ya, ok, I’m in, what are we doing?”

 

Wynonna smiles, “Well, we gotta go bowl talk.”

 

 

Unfortunately you knew all too well what she meant. You heard it was a thing in jails that were set up in big cities like this. You both walk back up to your room, you’ve never done it before but Wynonna clearly has. Of course she takes _your_ cup, not hers like a decent human being. You don’t even have commissary money yet to replace that cup, you’ll have to make a trade later to replace it. “Watch the door.” She says this as she kneels down in front of the toilet with your fucking cup. She takes the cup and scoops out the water from the toilet bowl. You hope to god she washes her hands after.

 

You know the steel toilets act like megaphones without the water in them, you could probably hear someone from two floors up through the pipes, if you were guessing. We would be pretty lucky if Doc was on the other end at this moment. Once the water was out, Wynonna knocked on the steel frame of the toilet. Every knock had to be special, almost like a calling card so you know who was trying to get through. It wasn’t a simple knocking pattern, more like a beat, you’ve heard this beat before – now you got it, “Devil Went Down To Georgia.” _Of course._

 

You both wait for a reply, you a hear voice finally, but the man wasn’t Doc, just some guy trying to get laid, _gross_. You both sit there longer as Wynonna knocks a few more times, about twenty minutes a part.

 

During your waiting time you make small talk, mostly about Wynonna, Doc and Waverly. You learn how close they all were until that night in the lawyers office, they are really the only family they have. You learn Wynonna and Doc have a daughter together and she is now in the custody of another team member on the outside, Xavier Dolls. You feel like you and Xavier would get along well, he was an ex officer of the law - morals, respect and all that. The way Wynonna talks about her family makes you think she is less insufferable than previously thought, not too much, but enough.

 

You’ve been sitting here a while and still no knock back, your bladder was full thirty minutes ago but now you need to go.

 

“Wynonna, can we slate this till later I have to piss”, you plea.

 

“Nope, sorry Red, no can do. Go use Waverly’s”, she says back with a dismissive wave to the door.

 

_Shit._

You consider stealing Wynonna’s cup and using  it to even the score, but even you aren’t that low. It’s a subtle reminder you haven’t quite hit rock bottom yet.

 

You walk out of your cell and walk around the horse shoe to Waverly’s cell. She was directly across from your cell, you had a straight on view to her room from yours.

 

Every step on the way was a careful one, you didn’t want to be the new girl who pissed herself on the first day.

 

The door was slightly opened, so you carefully knock. Waverly showed up a moment later, leaning on the door frame. Being this close to her you now see how beautiful those hazel eyes are and how much you missed that smile in the few hours you haven’t seen her, you even momentarily forgot your bladder was about to burst. You both stay there, standing, staring, smiling like an idiot, actually falling in lust for someone in jail.

 

“Uhh hi Waverly. So this is awkward but Wynonna is trying to get Doc on the bowl and I really have to use the toilet and she refuses to flush the damn thing.”

 

Waverly gives you a questioning look and eyes you up and down for a second. She agrees with a single nod and as you walk past her she backhands your gut and says “don’t take too long.” You grimace because you are pretty sure a little pee just came out. It was a dick move but you like her style, it feels like the most fucked up flirting you’ve ever been a part of but, but this is jail.

 

As you sit there emptying your bladder, ass cheeks warming the cold metal, you scan her cell.  She clearly doesn’t have a roommate which tells you she definitely knows the right people. The cell is clean and actually smells not half bad, sweet even. Peaking from under her pillow you see a magazine, as you finish up and wash your hands, you sneak a peek. It’s a ‘Better Homes and Gardens’ magazine, never pegged her for that kind of girl but it warms your heart a little bit, ideas of a white picket fence and all. When you turn the page two items hit the floor and you go to ground to retrieve them, two photos that instantly make you smile. One is Waverly and a little girl, presumably Wynonna’s because they look exactly alike. Waverly is pushing her on a swing with that huge smile and the little girl looks so happy. The other is a group shot of the four, Wynonna, Waverly, Doc and Xavier, you assume.

 

You jump in your skin as the harsh toned voice hits your ears, “What the fuck are you doing?” Waverly asks.

 

You take a moment, realizing you invaded her privacy, something that isn’t taken lightly. “Sorry Waverly I didn’t mean to I just saw this here and, I don’t know, just looked.”

 

Waverly walks over to you and snatches the photos out of your hand and looks at them. “Is that you and Wynonna’s daughter?”, you ask.

 

Waverly offers a warm smile, a dramatic difference than a minute ago. “Ya, that’s my beautiful niece, Alice. I miss her everyday. She must be getting so big.”

 

You look at Waverly as she is looking at the photo, possibly contemplating or reminiscing something. She is human, it’s there, she’s so much more than a crew leader in jail, or so you think in this moment. She wipes away a tear that you barely notice threatening to come out the corner of her eye.

 

She puts the magazine back under her pillow and offers conversation. “So what about you … family? Friends? Or are you a psycho murderer?”

 

She sits on top an empty table next to the bed, you take a seat on the bed, “an ex girlfriend, a mom and dad who probably won’t talk to me ever again, and I guess now a Wynonna.”

 

You made her laugh when you said Wynonna and she ran her hand through her long brown hair, and flipped the part to one side , you liked that a little too much as says the flutters in your gut.

 

The door flung open, no surprise Wynonna was interrupting you both.

 

“I got Doc, he’s going to meet us tomorrow in the laundry room.”

 

You all stare at each other, then Wynonna and yours attention goes to Waverly since she is calling the shots.

 

You’re not sure if Waverly’s new smirk turned you on or should scare the shit out of you, but if you were honest with yourself it was both.

 

“Nice work sis, let’s get started.”


	2. Routines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole is starting to see just how long a day in jail can be and so much can happen. A plan starts to form.

You are once again laying on your shitty mattress in your cell, with your not so shitty celly below you. Your head is resting on this lumpy, sorry excuse for a pillow that is so terrible it’s way more comfortable with your own hands behind your head. You have decided staring at the ceiling is your new favorite activity.

The light from the day room is shining through the small narrow window on your door, casting a rectangular shape on the wall you’re laying against. It’s almost reflecting directly in your eye and you know sleeping will be impossible. You close your eyes and try to imagine your own bed but there is no fucking kidding yourself, your situation sucks. You feel the loneliness settling in, getting comfortable and whispering sweet nothings to your conscious. Your mind knows you can somewhat handle the harsh truth of your situation, you revel in that and chalk it up to a win, but no matter how much you are surround by people with similar circumstances, you are alone.

But maybe, just maybe- you aren’t.

Your mind starts to wander on the maybe. Your cell smells so much worse than Waverly’s. You are convinced you stepped out of a rose field and into a stale gym locker room full of pee wee football equipment. You know this specific smell because your younger brother use to store his disgusting football equipment in your house.

When Waverly said she was ready to get started on her plan, you were fired up and ready to go, you swear you have no allegiance to anyone but Waverly makes that a hard promise to keep. You found out she actually meant tomorrow night to go over plans, or whatever she had in mind and shooed you both out of her cell as the guards called for lock down for the night. You know the moment you left her cell you missed her. Even now, like some stupid puppy you left at home while you were at work, here you are thinking about this woman- a woman you barely know, are slightly terrified of but none the less, miss her presence. You think of her smile, you notice it in the small moments when she thinks no one is looking, it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen, the corners of her mouth lifting so high even her eyes squint in glee, you even know the layer of wickedness she tries to put in front of it is just a game. You put your right arm in air and point to the ceiling, absentmindedly tracing a cursive ‘W’ into the darkness. Even your body knows it’s drawn to her.

You feel a sudden pressure to the middle of your back that snaps your thoughts away from Waverly, your body slightly rises then drops down and hits the bars the mattress is resting on with force and you feel the stiff metal against your back.

It happens twice more except the the next two rounds of pain come quicker than the first.

_What the fuck._

“Haught,” you hear after the annoyance.

“Wynonna, stop kicking me.” You say this seriously as you roll on to your side facing the door. You now realize taking the top bunk was a bad idea.

“Come on Haught, I cant sleep, I need my exercise.”

“I am not a weight set, Wynonna.”

“Ya, I know, I know, I just gotta keep these legs in shape,” Wynonna says as you lean your body over the edge and glare at the amused woman, you can feel the blood rushing to your face and hair hanging around you as Wynonna starts to swat at the loose ends.

You give her another annoyed squinty eye glare as she asks, “Haught, can I ask you a question?”

You know by now this question could be anything but you’re stuck in jail, bored as fuck, not sleepy at all, so you entertain her, “What, Wy?”

“Does the carpet match the drapes?” She asks and you immediately grab her fingers that are so obnoxiously tangling themselves in the ends of your still hanging hair.

“Fuck you.” You angrily say back and fling her hand away.

She laughs and you lift yourself up to your bunk again, shifting in annoyance to get comfortable in anyway possible. Your lips press tight and harsh breaths escape every time you move.

“Oh come on Haught, have a sense of humor, will ya!?” She says this as you let out a heavy sigh. You shake your head and try to rationalize her maddening joke. You wonder how much heartache is behind all her humor and constant ribbing. You can’t blame her for the outlet, you mask your pain with bad decisions, getting in to relationships with emotionally unavailable people, and you like to hit shit. The last wall you railed your fist into still stings your knuckles when you bend them, so terrible humor doesn’t seem that bad.

A short while later you know what Wynonna’s next move was because her snoring is comparable to a sputtering car engine. This noise actually makes you smile because it reminded you of your dads 1969 Chevy Camaro, it was red with white racing stripes, convertible, a fucking dream that helped you get all your dates in high school. Then you remember that car is still sitting in storage and the moment you get the fuck out here that glorious piece of machinery is all yours.

The last time you drove it was the first time you almost ended up right where you already are. You were trying to impress a girl, of course, and you had that ride up to 100mph before the fucking cops were waiting in the dark shadows behind a green traffic sign. This was before you wanted to be a police officer, but something about that night made you want to be one, just the memory of the adrenaline was enough to make you presently breathe harder. The cop stayed right on your tail before you eventually ran the car off the road and lost him in a dark clearing of a wooded area, the car never ran the same again- rolling over so much nature isn’t what a Camaro is intended for. You think there are probably branches still stuck between the fucking parts. Just another reminder of the nice things you had that you let go to shit.

After your mind wanders from the memory your eyes are heavy and you finally feel yourself slipping into a dream.

Your eyes felt like they shut for two minutes but there is a soft banging on the window of your door. You look up at the clock above your door, two minutes was actually two hours, but they felt the same as you are groggy and pissed off at the interruption. You know Wynonna is not going to answer the knock so you toss the stiff wool blanket off you and hop off the bunk to approach the door.

Through the glass you see a tall wooden handle with a hand wrapped around it you know well – Waverly’s. You are slightly less annoyed. You know you can’t open the door, that is controlled by the officers. You start to talk but see Waverly bring a finger to her lips and you shoot her a confusing look. You don’t like when people shush you. You then hear your door’s lock click and the door slightly pushes itself open with a creaky high pitched noise escaping from the hinges.

_What the hell._

Waverly struggles through the now fully open door with a gigantic cleaning cart, but with a proud look on her face. You back step to your bunk and hop up because there is barely room to move with three people and Waverly’s shit.

Wynonna starts to wake up now and stands for a stretch, her hair is disheveled but still fucking perfect, what an asshole. Wynonna lets out a loud yawn and sniffs the air, “yuck Waves… you smell like, musk, Doc wears that shit when he doesn’t have a chance to shower.”

Waverly glares at Wynonna and returns, “do you think I would actually wear that shit?”

Wynonna dismisses her comment with a hand flip and sits back down on her bunk, you laugh when she tries to sit back and smacks the back of her head on the bottom on your bunk but continues to speak in frustration. “So what are you the jail maid? What the fuck Waves how did you even get in here?”

Waverly chances a glance out the door. Being high up on the bunk you have an obstructed view of the guard podium and he looks preoccupied with a late night snack. Waverly turns and looks at you first, you pray she didn’t see your lingering puppy dog eyes. “I am on the nightly cleaning crew, it’s actually a privilege for good behavior, not that you would know anything about that. And he thinks one of you puked all over your cell and he trusts me enough to be up here, so here I am,” Waverly says confidently.

You quickly scoot back towards the wall in surprise as Waverly finishes talking because the gigantic garbage bin starts to move and grumble, the papers and trash start to flow over the top of the can. The last time something came out of a large container it was your 21st birthday and that something was a stripper, but presently this something is a man, with a perfect mustache in a jail uniform . You’ve seen this man before, he was in the transport van sitting next to Wynonna. You now realize it is Doc without any introduction.

Wynonna lets out a loud laugh and Waverly jabs her mop handle into Wynonna’s gut. “Shhh!!!” Waverly says with frantic eyes and Wynonna doubles over on her bed coughing.

Waverly yells out the door as you see the guard glance up toward your cell, “She’s still spewing like a volcano, sir! Be done soon!” You see the guards disgusted look and he walks away from the podium.

Everyone is whispering from here on out and Doc crouches behind the garbage container, pinned between that and the toilet, less than enthused at his mode of transportation.

Waverly nods at you and points between you and Doc, “Nicole, this is Doc, Doc – Nicole.”

“Ma’am,” Doc returns, but you smile because he tips an invisible hat. You saw a photo in Waverly’s room and remember a black cowboy hat that seemed like a forever accessory.

Waverly continues, “Ok look, I got our hands on a job.”

You hear Wynonna interrupt her, “baby girl, we are in JAIL, what kind of job are we suppose to pull from within here? Steal someone’s extra fruit for some hooch?”

Waverly is now rubbing the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb. You sympathize with her at Wynonna’s comment, she just can’t help herself.

“If you’ll let me finish,” Waverly says with a mono toned annoyance

You admire the way Waverly handles Wynonna. Even though Waverly is younger, she doesn’t act like it. She waves off her bullshit just like you do, but you can tell Waverly doesn’t hate Wynonna as much as she leads on, there is almost an amusement in her voice behind the frustrating comments back. You can’t see Wynonna’s actions to her comment but you know they made Waverly’s eyes roll.

Waverly continues, “I found someone – well they found me a few weeks after I got here and still didn’t have a trail date.”

You noticed Waverly peek behind her at the open door, she took a deep breath and started talking faster. You arch an eyebrow and get a glance out to the day room in space that you can see, you don’t see the guard but you sit up straighter because for some reason that made you a better listener.

“She wants us to finish the job we started at the lawyers office, and in exchange she’ll get us out of here and this goes away. We get our freedom, all of us.”

You hear Wynonna below you, “Waverly who the fuck is this person and why do they have power to get us out of here.”

You see Waverly look to the floor. You haven’t seen her hesitant since you met her but here she is taking a second to answer. “It’s Mayor Lucado.”

“FUCK Waverly!” Wynonna tells and stands up.

“Shut up or lower your voice!” Waverly responds through gritted teeth. “Damnit Wynonna we were doing the job for her all along! It was her lackey that came to us first, but behind him was her.”

You see Wynonna put her hand on the top of her head and painstakingly run it down her face. “Jesus fucking Christ I need a drink.”

Doc almost mimics Wynonna but his eyes go wide and he goes from kneeling to sitting with his head down. “I need whiskey,” he says between his knees.

Waverly looks at you, those eyes still make you very aware your gut and heart are somehow connected. You sigh and shake your head because you know exactly who Mayor Lucado is and you want nothing to do with her.

“I know this isn’t ideal. But this gets us all out this hell hole and keeps me out of prison. Then all we have to do is actually finish the job we started.”

“What if we fail again Waverly?” Wynonna asks.

“We all end up back here, or I don’t know worse!” Waverly said solemnly.

You immediately felt the heaviness in the room but understood this was your chance to possibly get a second chance. The conversation was quick, alone time isn’t a luxury here.

Waverly motions to Doc to hop back in the garbage can. He struggles at first to get his leg over the brim and you laugh, Waverly looks at you and laughs too, it felt normal and easy for a split second, something you’ve missed. Wynonna helps hide him in the tall bin by rustling up disgusting paper and whatever else she can find in the can and dumps it over his head. You notice she enjoys it too much by the shit eating grin on her face as she turns around.

Before Waverly left your cell she left you with some parting words. “She can’t move up trial dates so we are stuck here until then. But when they hand you your sentence act shocked and grateful, ok?”

“Why are you looking at me when you say that?” Wynonna questioned and Waverly rolled her eyes as she back stepped out of your room then turned her cart around as she walk back down the hallway. The door shuts and you hear the lock click, back to reality you go.

You continue to sit on the top bunk, legs crossed like a pretzel and old bad habits kick in as you start to pick at the fuzz on your socks as Wynonna paces the room. She ends up leaning against the bunk, her back is just beside your right foot. She genuinely looks concerned. There isn’t a lame joke or a quip, just the look of confusion and frustration. She finally breaks the silence, “of course the Mayor is dirty, of course Waverly gets us involved again. I guess the only silver lining is I get to see my daughter again.”

You don’t immediately return words, you are still trying to wrap your head around the fact that the Mayor is dirty and you are getting out of jail to commit another crime. The Mayor was never a town favorite with her extreme views but also never had good competition around election time.

_What happens after this? Do I stop being a felon or is it like a snow ball rolling around in snow, getting bigger and bigger after each job, when will it stop?_

You surrender to your thoughts and lay back on your bed. “I don’t know Wynonna, I guess it’s good we get to leave eventually and it sounds like we are just stealing some stupid papers from a building, doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Look Red, I love Waverly but she has a habit of trusting people and sometimes that bites her and other people in the ass hardcore.”

You nod your head, you think that isn’t the worst trait but you can see the trouble it can bring. Waverly didn’t have to extend the early release to you, or include you in the plan but she did and for that you are thankful.

“Well Wy, step by step, first let’s figure out when our trials are, get the fuck out of here then figure out how to please Mayor Douche. For now, I need some sleep .”

Wynonna laughs at your new nickname for the Mayor. “Ok, ok you’re right. And for the record I will never please that woman.”

You turn on your side and you hear Wynonna emptying her bladder, then she shuffles around below you until you hear her infamous snoring. It was only hours ago when you first attempted to sleep, but now it feels different. It was nice to see Waverly, you can still smell her shampoo and her smile is definitely burned into your memory forever. This all suddenly feels temporary, a second chance and that helps you sleep just fine.

—————

You wake up to another morning of guards and loud voices coming through hidden speakers. They say the definition of insanity is repeating something and expecting different results. You know the repetition isn’t your choice but it still feels insane. You thought you’d be shaking Wynonna awake but her bed is empty and her sheets are made. You look around for a moment, you pinch your arm for a split second to make sure you are indeed awake - you are. You also sigh in relief that you get to take a piss alone. You also are so tired that while you pee you start to think why it is common to say “take a piss”, there is no taking about it, you are leaving it there. You decide then you will never bring this thought up to anyone. Bored jail thoughts are dangerous.

You walk down to the day room, you immediately notice Wynonna was sitting at the same table you were at the other day by herself but with two trays of food. You make your down the stairs and scan the room. Same groups sitting at the same tables, but this time you get less stares. Some tables are chatting and loudly laughing with one another, some are styling each other’s hair, you start to understand that at a certain point they are all you have, you understand why people have “lock up families”.

You also might have your new found friend Waverly to thank for the lack of stares. You don’t see Waverly in the room, you will admit to yourself that makes you sad but since she works overnights you bet she is sleeping. You wonder if she snores like Wynonna, correction, you hope she doesn’t snore like Wynonna.

You let out an embarrassingly loud yawn as you plop your body weight into the chair next to Wynonna.

“Eat up!” She says and inches the yellow tray to your hand.

“This is for me?” You shockingly reply.

“Ya, I felt bad for the other day, so I got you a tray and extra juice.” You sit there surprised as she says this, you low key pinch your thigh away from Wynonna to make sure you awake once more, for good measure – you are.

“Uh, thanks,” you say and take a waffle into your hand, you sniff it just incase.

It smells like a normal shitty jail waffle.

“Oh come on Red! It’s fine!” She yells at you and gives your shoulder a stiff shove.

You begin to shovel the food in your mouth and open your juice. It reminds of elementary school and how you would need to peel back the carton to expose the triangle, then wiggle it back and forth to get optimum flow. You didn’t know the next time this skill would come in handy would be jail.

Wynonna talks as you chew. “Im glad we are all getting out. I miss my little girl, and I hope I get out before Doc though.”

“Why’s that?” You say through a mouth full of food.

“This may come as a shock but he is the lenient co-parent.”

You silently chuckle at that. Between barely getting to know Wynonna and briefly meeting Doc, you forget you know they are parents.

Wynonna continues, “he just, ya know, let’s her stay up past her bedtime, gives her cookies and shit and then one time he let her watch a cops and robbers shoot em’ up movie and she didn’t sleep for weeks. She would only sleep with Aunt Waverly until the nightmares went away.”

You like the end of her sentence. You know Waverly is a good person, a good person who really cares about her family. A person that would get in to bed with a dirty Mayor to make sure her family was all together, even help out a stranger.

You offer a tight smile to Wynonna, “well that’s what Dads are for, and yes I’m shocked you are the strict one, for the record.”

Wynonna shakes her head and shuffles the untouched food on her tray with the finger. “It’s not that I’m strict. I just, Waverly and I, we grew up in a real shit sandwich of a childhood. A drunk Dad, an asshole sister and a Mom we still don’t know where she is. My Dad and Sister died a while ago from being caught up in their own bullshit and after that it’s just been Waverly and I. My point is, I just want her to have a normal life, with a good schedule and more opportunities than I had. And I can’t do that from in here. So after this job I’m done. I’m done being a fucking criminal.”

You listened to Wynonna and you actually felt your heart for once, it sank into your stomach at her words but you never felt so connected to someone. “I get that. I mean I don’t have anyone who is there for me anymore. Even when I get out I have no fucking clue where I’m going but you found your family and I understand that once you do, you gotta fight like hell to keep them safe.”

Wynonna nodded, “Red… how bout you come to the homestead – our home I mean. Just come whenever you get out. It’s just me, Alice and Waverly but there’s an open room, it’s yours if you want it.”

“Uhhh that’s generous Wy but shouldn’t you ask Waverly first?”

Wynonna put her arm around your shoulder and squeezed a little too tight for your liking. “Bah! Come on Haught Stuff it’s my house, my rules, plus I think you’ll have withdrawals from not sleeping with me at night so I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You let out a loud laugh but that also comes with a drop of sweat. You know what Waverly just being in your presence already does to you and staying at her home might make it that much more difficult. You bite your lip and shake away the thought because who are you kidding, you don’t have any other options and Purgatory in the winter isn’t exactly the best place to be homeless.

“Okay, okay, consider the vacancy filled, for now. But it’ll be temporary and I’ll help out with whatever you need.”

Wynonna smiles and you genuinely think she is excited.

———

You stand in front of the shower, finally ready to wash away the few days of lock up. It’s no secret you stink. You walk in and stand in the stall, it’s disgusting. You take off your towel and toss it over the door. The walls are a shade of yellow and the tiles on the ground match. You aren’t sure if that is the original color but you bet it’s a natural dirty yellow. You thank the jail gods for the plastic shower sandals, you are sure your foot would fall off if it touched whatever was growing in the grout of the floor tiles. There is no shelving, this isn’t The Ritz. You don’t want to set your tiny bottle of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that a guard gave you down so you take a moment to yourself. The inmate that so graciously showed you the showers offered to stay and help but you politely declined. You do remember her saying you only get 5 minutes of hot water. The shower head is about 4 feet above your head and the on button is at your waist. Once you press it the clock starts. You are standing there, naked, cold, and holding your products. You are thinking about your plan of attack. Should you suds up then turn on the water? Or turn on the water then lather up really fast? What about the time to unscrew the caps and make sure nothing hits the floor? You stand there, naked, even more cold and now running out of time. You hear a voice from the stall next you. You can’t see this person because the walls are high but you know know voice. Waverly.

“Nicole? You ok over there? I saw you go in a whole ago.”

You take a deep breath, and sit there silent for a few moments too long.

“Nicole?”

You snap out of it, “Uh, ya fine, just uh…”

Waverly steps over your stumbling words. “It’s a lot right? Best approach is lathering up before you hit the button. Sometimes if you rinse off fast enough you have enough time to get the places you missed. Oh and hold the bottles between your legs, you don’t want that shit on the floor.”

You nod your head, “right…thanks.”

You take her advice and start to unscrew the shampoo, lathering that on your dry hair feels all sorts of wrong but you see the advantage. You then lather the body wash all over your body. It was just white streaks of thick, sticky soap all over your skin. In this moment you are so glad you are alone, you look fucking ridiculous. You hit the button and let the water cascade down your body. You waddle around the water because your thigh muscles aren’t as strong as you thought with three bottles between them and then you rigorously scratch and rub your hair and body to get all the soap off, you count in your head the entire time to gauge how much time you have left over. You get all the soap off and know you have about a minute and half left. You stand there and just let the warm water hit you. You feel sorry for yourself then a voice brings you out of your own bullshit. It’s the most amazing thing that’s hit your ears in a while. Waverly was singing in the shower. It took you a second to figure out the song, “At Last” by Etta James. You didn’t think think she would be singing love songs but every new thing you learn about Waverly makes your heart just that much more soft. Before she finishes you hear something hit the floor and tiniest but mightiest “shit” you’ve ever heard. Her exclamation makes you giggle.

“Something funny, Nicole?”

You smile but don’t answer. Your water shut off right on time and you wring out your hair and grab the towel draped over the door and wrap it around your body. You open the door at the same time as Waverly. You see her smirking and you shake your head.

“What?” She offers.

You don’t mean to stare but Waverly wearing only a towel was the best part of your day. You notice she may be staring too or just waiting for you to answer. “ ‘At Last’, really?” You finally respond because you realize just how long you were staring.

“Yes, I love that song, and it just so happens to be three minutes long, so once I’m done I know I have two minutes left.” She says this as she squeezes the excess water out of her hair and tightens the fold of her towel sitting above her breasts.

“Well your voice is…amazing.” You hope that didn’t come out as gawky as it sounded in your head.

Waverly nodded her head, “thanks” she says with a wink as she walks in front of you up to her room. You are far behind her as you go in to your own room to put your uniform back on. That part is easy in jail, no picking out outfits, just showering and putting back on your same gross shit. You wonder why you even showered.

There was a knock on your door, a guard was standing there with hands on his hips. “Haught! Let’s go! CO needs to talk to you.”

“Ok.”

He holds up handcuffs and you sigh. You hold your hands out in front of you and every ounce of pride you got back these past few days is now gone with every click around your wrists. You know the handcuffs are needed because to get to the office you have to go down the buildings’ elevator and hallways. You walk past Waverly and Wynonna at a table in the day room, Waverly asks if you are ok and you nod your head while biting your lip. He leads you to the elevator and walks you in, you try to turn around but he grips your arm and you can’t move. “Face to wall Haught!” Another rule you forgot about. Inmates can’t face doors so they don’t have as much of an opportunity to run away.

The door opens and he guides you out the down a hallway to an open room with a desk and two chairs in the middle. It’s a medium sized room, with beige tile floors and blue walls, no windows - you were hoping for a damn window because you haven’t seen the actual sun in days. He chains you to the table as the correction officer walks in.

“Is this necessary, sir?” You see his name embroidered on his polo “Nedley”. An older man with thick graying hair and a handle bar mustache.

“Protocol saves lives Haught, didn’t you learn that in the academy?” He says to you flatly with a deep voice that is borderline condescending.

You take a deep breath and now remember who he is. He was an instructor at the academy for a course you took on protocols.

“Well Haught it looks like you’ve been having yourself a great time since the academy.”

You don’t return his small talk.

“It’s a shame too, I was going to hire you right after but looks you and your girlfriend had other plans.”

“EX girlfriend.” You return.

He smiles at you. “Right. Well I won’t take up your time. Your trial is set for two weeks from now. It’s in a different county so you’ll have to transfer jails for the trial. They’ll hand you your sentence and then you’ll continue on your way, whichever that may be. Could be jail, could be prison, but I’m sure you know all the possible avenues.”

“Fine.” You both sit in silence after you respond. You have no idea what he is thinking, he looks at you like some disappointed parent. You hate it. But you also already know the outcome of that trial and gives you a little satisfaction to silently throw in his face.

Nedley closes his folder he has on you and motions for the guard.

He stands up as the guard frees you from the table, “alright well if you need anything let me know.”

“Yes sir.”

———  
You are back in the day room sitting at a table with Waverly and Wynonna. The amount of people that come up to Waverly to ask dumb questions while giving you death stare is alarming, but you know they are just watching out for her, you being the new girl and all. One girl was mad another stole her magazines, another was pissed that three people were simultaneously selling hooch and taking profits. You see how someone like Waverly was needed and when Waverly leaves they’ll be a new one. It keeps order and keeps girls from ripping each other’s hair out.

You find out Waverly and Wynonna’s trial dates are a week after yours. You all may be actually getting out at the same time once you get transferred back. You also realize how lucky you are to have an early trial date, for once you are thankful for the system. This is the only time you will ever think that.

The three of you continue to talk about the dumbest shit and you hear some embarrassing stories about Wynonna and her trials and tribulations with men and alcohol- separately and together. You wonder how this woman is still alive after you hear a story of their Aunt Gus shooting a shot gun at her after stealing all the good whiskey from the bar she owns when she was fifteen. You see the relationship between Waverly and Wynonna start to get better with every interaction, the scowls becoming warm smiles and the loud laughter is enduring.

After the laughter there was a small moment of silence that Wynonna broke. “So Waverly, Haught pocket here is going to be staying with us when she gets out.”

You hear Waverly choke on her water and you immediately offer to change the decision. “Is that ok? It’s not a big deal if not I can figure something out.”

Waverly waved her hand in the air, dismissing your idea, “uh… no no that’s fine…that’ll be… fine.”

You catch Wynonna’s eyes thinning and glancing at Waverly, then you, then Waverly, and capped it off with a smile.

———

A guard makes herself known to the day room after you’ve been sitting there with the sisters for a long time. “Fan club time ladies!” She then rifles off some names, Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught being the last two she yells out.

You turn to Waverly “what’s that mean?”

Waverly stands and holds out her hand to offer you a crutch to stand up. “You have a visitor, and so do I apparently.”

You furrow your eyebrows but follow the shorter woman.

You follow the line into a long narrow room just down a hall from the day room. There are six cubby’s total. Each station has a chair, and a small table like structure attached to plexiglass in the front of the chair. There is barely any privacy, the walls between the stations are plexiglass as well and they only come up halfway to the ceiling. You see people sitting on the other side, you don’t immediately notice anyone you recognize. The guard then yells out numbers that are above each station. “Haught, 5! Earp, 6!”

You slow walk to your station, passing Waverly’s and stealing a glance. It’s a younger man, wearing an old letterman jacket, way too much hair gel and just has that overall “I’m huge asshole” vibe. You normally don’t judge people but he was lounging his feet on top of the ledge in front of him and it looked lazy and disrespectful.

You get to your station and shake your head. You don’t even want to sit down once you see her. You look at Shea, your now ex girlfriend and want nothing to do with her. There’s a phone you need to pick up to communicate with her and Shea is motioning to have you pick it up but you refuse. The guard is yelling your name behind you to sit down but you barely hear him. Shea lights every bone in your body on fire. But not the way Waverly does. Shea’s fire feels too hot, the dangerous kind where you know you need to move away from it, like the flame that could burn down a house and leave you homeless and injured. Waverly’s is the opposite. It’s warm, makes you feel safe and comfortable like a camp fire, a light in a dark space. Waverly steps into your personal space and puts a hand on top of yours that is resting on the back of the chair. “Everything good here?” She glances at Shea but then looks directly into your eyes. You feel ok in that moment, so you nod your head as the guard fires off a verbal warning of no touching or moving to another cube. Waverly goes back to jock strap and you focus your attention on Shea.

You take a careful seat down and grab the phone. You sit there with the receiver to your ear in silence. Shea begins, “are you ok? I’ve missed you. I’m ready for you to come home.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Am I ok? Are you fucking kidding me! I haven’t heard from you in weeks, then I got arrested for saving your ass, and you don’t even pick up the phone when I needed help? You’re worse than my family. So no I’m not ok, I’m in fucking jail. And no I haven’t missed you…and finally, fuck you I’m never stepping foot in that apartment ever again. I’ll have someone get my shit.”

You then hear a loud “Fuck you!” On the other side of the glass, you expected it to be Shae but it was the jock strap sitting next to her and you look over to Waverly. She is standing with her hand on her hips, shaking her head and motioning a hand for her visitor to leave. You assume she is having just as much fun as you are.

Your attention snaps back to Shae, “Nicole please, I love you we can make this work, I’ll help you, I’m here now.”

There was a time in your life where you would have believed that. There was a time when you needed to hear that and would have gone back to her in a second. But something changed that night you got arrested. You somehow hit rock bottom but since have been made stronger. You don’t need this person sitting in front of you anymore. All she’s ever caused is pain, manipulation and anger. And you do enough of that on your own to yourself.

“Shae I don’t need you anymore, I don’t love you, and I certainly never want to see you again. I wish you luck with med school and your gambling problem- I hope you don’t get yourself killed but, we’re done here.”

You turn to the guard and give him subtle wave. You are done with fan club time. You didn’t notice Waverly was behind you until you get back to the day room. You don’t want to talk to anyone right now, not even Waverly. You know you don’t want to be rude so you quickly turn around, “I’ll see you later”, you say with a quick step forward to go up the stairs to your cell. You hear Wynonna as you approach the door and when you walk in her head is in the toilet yelling “one week!” You faintly year Doc respond with “two weeks!”. You sigh heavily and climb up to you bunk, you immediately turn on your side to face the wall in a fetal position. You hear Wynonna flush the toilet and hang up the line.

“All good Red?” You hear from below. Your face is now half buried in the pillow, you let out a muffled response, “I hate girls.”

Wynonna let out a chuckle, and you feel a pat to your side. You turn around and face her, she offered you a tilted head and an empathetic smile, and it makes you feel like a child, a child whose mother is trying to comfort her.

“Shae came and visited me, I finally told her off. It felt good but I’m still pissed at her for being a shitty human. What’s terrible is I still care about her enough to be pissed.”

Wynonna nodded her head, “that’s not terrible, it’s human, you loved her, even if you don’t love her anymore it doesn’t mean you stop caring about her well being.”

You hate yourself for letting a tear roll onto your cheek. But you were somehow happy it was only one. You wipe it away and sit up.

“So Haught, who visited Waverly?”

You know describing this guy will be difficult, not difficult as hard but difficult not to laugh through your sentence. “Some jock strap with slick hair, looked all smug with his feet up in public, super fucking loud too.”

“Fucking Champ.” Wynonna cuts in. “Waverly’s ex, his dad is rich, he keeps trying to offer to help Waverly because he wants to get her back. It’s been like this for a solid year. He’s a harmless tool bag, but a tool bag at that.”

You never get jealous but something tugs at your gut in that moment. You dismiss it because even though Waverly makes you feel like a human with a heart again you aren’t ready to even entertain a feelings dance with her.

“Well, lets go Haught stuff, it’s rec time, we can go up to the basketball court and get some rage out. Supervised, raging fun.”

She holds her arm out and you hang onto to it and hop off the bunk. You follow her to the line of inmates waiting to go up the stairs to the courts, as you are walking in that perfectly rehearsed line you get bumped from behind and fall forward hard. Luckily you have good reflexes and catch yourself from slamming face first into some hard tiles. You immediately stand back up and look behind you. Your old friend Bicep is standing there eyeing the fuck out of you. Normally you would react with your fist but there was too many of her friends near by. Wynonna on the other hand stepped in front of you and yells, “What the fuck!” You hold her back with one arm, whisper to her that it is okay.

Bicep surrenders her hands in the air, “sorry stretch, didn’t see you there.” You find yourself again wanting to smack the smirk off her face. But you don’t. You turn the fuck around and clench your fists until the anger passes. She isn’t worth added time. You take satisfaction in knowing your resistance is emotional progress.

You make it up to the rec room and it is nicer than you thought, and bigger. There were two full sized basketball courts with active games going on and a volleyball court beyond that. Then there was standing room all along the edges of it, some inmates were playing a small game of hand ball. It smells like sweat and every few seconds you hear the echoes of all the different balls hitting the wooden floor and inmates yelling for a pass or cheering for a score.

You spot Waverly leaning against a wall watching the game and you walk towards her. You see Wynonna already getting involved in a game of handball, smacking the ball against the concrete wall. You didn’t take her for athletic but she’s pretty good.

You lean on the wall, next to Waverly, and she immediately asks, “you play basketball? You look like you play.” You pretend to be offended by the assumption, “why cause I’m tall!?” She scoffs, “yes dummy.” You return, “well, I do – did, haven’t in a while, not since college.”

She turns to you. Again you find yourself lost in her eyes. “Well, you’ll have to join in sometime, give them a run for their money.” You raise your eyebrows unenthusiastically in that moment. Nothing about playing basketball with these women seems appealing.

“Are you ok by the way, I mean from early.” Waverly asks.

“Ya, I’m good, just some old relationship bullshit but that’s way over now.”

“I get that, same by the way, Champ he is always working an angle with me.”

You smile and nod your head, your eyes widen a little just thinking about him, a little too pompously even for you,“ya… Wynonna was telling me all about him.”

Waverly furrows her eyebrows, “asking about me? What you jealous Haught?”

“No, no, I just- I.” You stumble over your words and get so flustered you start to stand from your casual leaning position and adjust your orange outfit like there’s anything to adjust. Momentarily, you miss your usual rolled sleeves to tug at when you feel anxious.

Waverly puts a hand on your shoulder, “relax Nicole, I’m joking.” You look at her hand on your shoulder, it feels warm and her fingertips are strong. You do not want this to end but the warmth immediately leaves and her hand is back at her side. The touch, even though small and meaningless felt amazing. In jail there is no connection with anyone and even this slightest touch makes you feel more human.

“Oh by the way Nic, the scar on your chest. I saw it earlier when we got out of the shower, how did that happen, looks like it was painful.” Waverly asks.

You lick your lips and slightly bite down on your lower lip, “Oh was Waverly Earp checking me out in a towel?” You reply playfully, and you remember how confident you can be if you tried.

“I was not, just, a little hard to miss.” Waverly says this then takes her finger and brushes back the v-neck collar of your shirt to expose the scar. You are in disbelief that you may have met your match in the confident yet cocky territory.

“I mean I wouldn’t blame you”, you say back with a smile, you know how cocky this smile is and yet you still don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about it.

She shakes her head and looks to the floor as soon as the corners of her mouth lift. You know that look, you know that blush. Maybe there is something here after all.

You remember how you got this scar all too well. “It’s a painful memory but I’m willing to tell it if you aren’t faint if heart?”

“Lay it on me,” She says.

You flinch when you remember the feeling of the story before you being and gently rub at the spot for a beat. “We were young and at a camp. My brother and I decided to go fishing and he was out on the end of the dock. It wasn’t a nice stable dock it was just floating on some barrels so you had to keep your balance. He was casting his fly fishing pole for the first time and I was tying up a lure to my line behind him. I stood up just as he was casting and he went a little too heavy on the slack and the treble hook he was using got caught right in my chest. I’ve never seen so much blood. But after a while of tugging it at my skin we got it out and went to a hospital to get it stitched up.”

“Holy shit Nicole! Handle pain well, huh?” Waverly responded.

“Well that wasn’t my choice, had to get it out somehow.”

Waverly again moves your shirt and you take a gulp. She runs her finger over the rigid skin and you try so hard not to sharply inhale but it happens anyways, your chest heaves out against her fingers.

You both are taken away from the moment when a basketball comes and knocks Waverly’s hand away. “What the fuck!” Waverly yells.

“Sorry boss, didn’t mean to.” You look up at who says this and who other than Bicep. She is standing there, staring you down once again.

“Well watch out or do my cleaning job for the next week!” Waverly yells back again and rubs at her wrist where the ball hit.

“You ok? You ask.

“Yeah I’m good.” You now see Waverly is back to boss mode so you back off a little bit. It’s not your favorite Waverly but you understand it’s how she survives and role that is hers to own in this hell hole.

You walk away from the courts with Waverly following and closer to Wynonna who is still playing handball against one wall.

“So you said your trial is in another county and they are transferring you?” Waverly questions.

“Yes, probably in a week or so and then we can get to work.”

Waverly immediately got a grin on her face like she had something diabolical planned. “Speaking of work, how about you be my shadow tonight while I clean and we can hang out?”

You know instantly this is not something you want to do. Knowing how dirty the jail is, cleaning it sounds fucking disgusting. But then again you get to hang out with Waverly for a few hours alone. You pretend to think on it, but you know your choice. You know every time you talk to her, the higher you have to lift your feet when you walk to high step out of the feelings that keep building around you.

“Ok, let’s… mop some floors together?” You question and laugh, and it makes Waverly laugh- you like that.

“Ok, I’ll pick you up at 8?”

The way she said this was unbelievable and hilarious because you know she meant it like a date but you are picking up trash and mopping floors, how romantic.

“I’ll see you then, Waverly.”


	3. That hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly and Nicole have a clean up date, Nicole moves to another jail and hell breaks loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, mind the new warning, there is violence in this chapter to a beloved character and a brief description of a panic attack.

You are nervous and you don’t exactly understand why. You are many things but unsure is low on your list of characteristics. You don’t have time to figure it out, or second guess yourself because while you’ve been pacing in your cell the guard is at the door.

Wynonna has been watching you take your cautious steps towards one wall then back towards the opposite one and you didn’t realize you were doing it until she interrupted your nonstop thoughts, which mostly consisted of Waverly. She tried to ask why you were playing with your own hands, taking deep breaths and running your fingers through your freshly brushed hair, but you didn’t respond, and she went back to reading a celebrity trash magazine.

The loud click of the door lock and squeak of the hinges brings you back to reality. All those nerves made you forget for a split second you currently lived in hell on earth.

“Haught, come with me,” the guard barks at you.

You follow behind him as he goes down the stairs to the day room. You run your hand through your hair again as you see Waverly perched on top of a table, waiting with her garbage bins on wheels and mop cleaning buckets. You feel mixed emotions, on one side – Waverly, on the other – cleaning up garbage and mopping floors, but you know being with Waverly is worth whatever gross shit you’re about to do. This thought is confirmed when Waverly turns around to greet you, it’s becoming second nature to smile when she does.

The guard hands you a blue t- shirt to wear over your regular uniform, same one Waverly wears while she works so they can pick out who is a “worker inmate”and not some crazed escapee roaming the halls.

Waverly slightly lifts her eyebrows after you put on your shirt, she wraps her hand around her mop handle and smirks at you, “you look good in blue.” She says this and you roll your eyes, you are both charmed and unamused as you look down at an over sized shirt that on any other day would be bedtime attire and not bedtime attire you’d ever wear around Waverly.

You listen to Waverly explain the mundane procedures, “we start upstairs in the rec room and work our way down to the day room and then grab all the trash from the cells that the girls leave outside their door.” If there is one thing you are good at, it’s following procedures. The guard escorts you both to the rec room, he stays just outside the door, leaning on the door frame and playing on his phone he isn’t supposed to have.

You and Waverly walk to one end of the rec room and start to sweep the remnants of the hours past. You try not to stare at her so much, so you remain focused on the floor. She breaks the silence first as you calmly brush items around. “You’re doing it wrong,” she offers flatly and slightly critical.

You are confused, “Uhh... doing what wrong?”

Waverly stops what she is doing and faces and looks at you. “Sweeping, you are sweeping all sorts of wrong.”

“Waves I’m pretty sure there is only one way to sweep.”

“Nope. Too fast.” Waverly says, then walks over to you, inches from your face, staring into your eyes and grabs your broom. She never loses eye contact as she demonstrates. She licks her lips, which drives you the good kind of insane, and continues, “it’s gotta be… controlled. You gotta really get into it, go slow, so you get all the good stuff. You can’t rush perfection.”

You suddenly feel like you need an oxygen mask and you are certain she isn’t talking about sweeping but she quickly hands you the handle and offers you her signature smile as she walks back to her spot.

You start to sweep like she so generously showed you and ask, “am I doing it right now?”

“Perfect.” She responds in a low tone and continues her work.

You finish sweeping the rec room. It was as gross as you imagined. You wonder how much trash and dirt can accumulate in a day, then you remember this is jail and people are fucking gross.

As you go back down to the day room, you start to spray down and wipe the tabletops, sweep the floors and pick up the garage. It’s different at night- quiet, but not pin drop quiet, the insomniacs are still banging and yelling at their windows on their cell doors and occasionally you hear the bustle of the officers bringing new criminals of the night in. They rolled one woman in with a wheelchair, restrained with cuffs and a mask on her face. You know the masks are for the people who can’t keep their own spit in their mouths and feel its best if worn on others. She looks like her skin is crawling, struggling to press against the restraints like she’s going to run somewhere. They bring her in and dump her into a cell on the first floor. You don’t hear much of her after that.

You see Waverly shake her head in disbelief and you slightly giggle knowing that woman is probably going to spit in the guards’ face when they un-restrain her.

“So… Nicole…I know you have a brother but what about the rest of your family?”

You think for a moment. It isn’t your favorite subject, your parents disowned you when you wanted to a police officer. They aren’t the type of people that think highly of the law or government. “Well, I don’t really talk to them much, we weren’t ever really close. My brother and I kind of are but I don’t know I never really fit in too well with my family.”

Waverly nods her head, “I get that. Even Wynonna sometimes I feel like I don’t belong. But, she is actually a lot stronger than I could ever be, and she really is the best sister ever… don’t tell her I said that.”

You motion to your lips, mimicking with a lock and key with your finger that you’ll take that one to your grave. “From what I’ve seen, I think you’re just as strong…Wynonna told me about your family, I’m sorry to hear what happened to your dad and sister, and your mom for that matter.”

Waverly stared off into the tile floor and spoke, “hmm, ya it’s a real doozy how someone like me with such a great up bringing ended up here.”

You offer Waverly a sympathetic smile, you wish it could a sympathetic hug, touch, anything really.

You settle on the smile and slap down your dirty rag on a tabletop and take a seat. It’s been a long night of cleaning and the heaviness at even the mention of family made you feel more tired. Also thinking about how you ended up in jail. This wasn’t supposed to be your life. You had plans. You had motivations. You had this thought that if you stayed on a certain path you were owed a normal life.

Waverly saunters over and sits directly next to you, her knee purposely nudging yours and she offers you a pity smile. Without words she seems to know you need comfort.

You ask Waverly, “if you weren’t here, weren’t making money illegally, where would you be?”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that,” she said, “I use to love studying other places of the world. Because I never traveled it was nice to research from afar. Maybe learn some languages, teach, I don’t know,” she shook her head and let out a light huff, “it’s stupid, I know, never going to happen.”

You instinctively and almost regrettably put your hand on her knee, “it’s not stupid Waverly, we are getting out of here, and whatever we do for Lucado… after… it’s our lives to live. Hell, I thought I was going to be a cop but now with a record, that’s pretty much dashed.”

Waverly looks at you wide eyed and furrow browed, “A what now?”

You laugh, “ya ya, Earp. A cop. And I’d probably arrest every Earp,” you say with a wink.

You don’t even realize your hand is still on Waverly’s knee until she puts a hand on top of yours and suddenly you are very aware where your hand is.

“Nicole Haught, right here, right now, let’s make some promises to each other.”

She lifts your hand and entwines your pinky fingers, “we solemnly swear to cut the shit once we get out, start on the path of legal and safe and start making an honest paycheck.” Waverly then smiles, you smile and nod your head in agreement and at the idea of getting your life back. Waverly then brings your linked hands to her lips, “ok, we have to seal it with a kiss.”

You gulp and gulp hard -and look around for the guard.

Waverly giggles, “our hands silly, kiss our thumbs at the same time while they are linked, and it’ll come true.”

You sigh heavily in relief and you both bring your hands up and kiss the backs of your own thumbs while looking at each other. You let go and miss the feeling of her hand in yours immediately.

Waverly stands up and says, “ok Nicole, we are officially promise indebted to one another. You can’t get rid of me now.”

You stand up and step in closer to Waverly and lean against her ear, “wouldn’t dream of it,” you whisper in her ear and you swore you saw goosebumps on her neck.

You finish up the night by slinging bags of garbage out front of every cell. It must be almost 3am. You are tired and in need of a shower. The last room, you hear a knock on the window of the door as pick up the last garbage bag. You look up and see Bicep. She is standing there with an arched eyebrow and you don’t know what the fuck you did to this person, but you are definitely on her shit list.

“Stay away from Waverly,” She says as she taps the glass pointing her finger at you with a look in her eye that makes you believe her instantly, but you would never, could never now, stay away from Waverly.

You squint because Bicep is starting to talk again but you have a hard time hearing what she is saying and in a quick moment you feel Waverly’s hand on your shoulder. You look over and her facial expression is hard to read, you may call it expressionless but that in itself is very much an expression.

Waverly says in a loud tone for Bicep to hear through the door, “All good here Roxy?”

Roxy. Well, at least now you know Bicep has a real name.

You see Roxy immediately change her facial expression, from wanting to kill you to a fake smile and head nod she offered Waverly as a response. Her death glare to you as Waverly walked away didn’t go unnoticed but you grabbed the final garbage bag, threw it in the bin and moved on.

 

You meet Waverly back in the day room.

 

“Thanks Nicole, the help is always appreciated, and you are good company.”

“No problem Waves, you are not so bad yourself.”

Waverly starts to remove her blue shirt and you do the same.

As she lifts the blue fabric over her head she starts to talk but you listen more intently as the shirt muffles her voice for a few seconds, “they allow us an extra shower for doing the work, you can take it now or in the morning. I usually hit it up in the morning, I’m about ready to close my eyes.”

You nod in contemplation but as much fun as it’s been to spend time with Waverly, your body is heavy, your mind is slowly shutting down and for once since you’ve been here you are looking forward to sleeping.

“It’s not that I enjoy cleaning a jail, it just…helps me sleep at night. That’s the hardest thing in this place, sleeping comfortably and feeling safe, you know? I have to bring my body to point of total exhaustion to sleep through the night.” Waverly says.

You wonder if she just read your mind. “Oh, trust me, I get that.”

You don’t want to admit that hearing the vulnerability in her voice somehow made you happy, but you know how hard it is to be vulnerable and you are just glad she felt like she could be with you. You don’t take that responsibility lightly. The trust involved to keep that safe is something you will protect until the end of time.

You both walk back up to the second level, Waverly brushes her hand against your shoulder and lightly down your arm, this gives you goosebumps on top of goosebumps. “Goodnight Nicole. See you in the morning.”

She leaves you with a smile, one you’ll be thinking about until your heavy eyes give in and you finally get a good night’s rest.

 

——

You blink your eyes open. You have no idea what time it is, but it must be late morning. You peek your head down and Wynonna isn’t there. You let your head fall heavy back into your pillow and convince your body it is ready to move.

 

You go through the motions – your morning stretch, piss, hairbrush, then down the to day room. You see Wynonna scarfing down her breakfast and sit next to her.

 

She chuckles, “Haught, how was your trash duty date with baby sis last night?”You are not sure of Wynonna’s facial expression, its equal parts amused and protective sister vibes.

“Not sure I would call it a date Wy. But it was fine, I need a shower though.”

You watch as Wynonna sets her fork down, too calmly for an Earp.

“Look, Nicole. I may march to beat of my own drum but I’m not stupid or oblivious. I see the way you two interact so I will only say this once. Then we can go back to regular scheduled programming. The only reason I’d ever come back to jail is because I’ve killed someone for making my sister feel sad….” Wynonna gets closer to your face “…and I’d be just fine with that.”

 

You nod your head and bulge your eyes. For once you fear Wynonna. “Message received, Wy. I’m going to go shower now.”

 

“You do that,” she says as she turns back to her tray of food. You suddenly lost your appetite and fled the scene quickly.

 

You grab your towel and showering supplies from your cell, you glance at Waverly’s, but the door is shut, you assume she is still sleeping.

 

The showering is getting more manageable as your subtle routine adjustments become second nature- lathering up soap on dry skin and building your thigh muscles while holding the shampoo and conditioner bottles seems normal at this point. You hit the button for water and start to vigorously rub the soap off. You don’t have thoughts other than getting clean, until you hear, “ _at last, my love has come along.”_ You inhale, the voice is becoming the best part of your day. You playfully respond, “my lonely days are over and life is like a song.”

You are a terrible singer. Your voice cracked and you had to clear your throat at the beginning but hearing Waverly giggle was worth it.

“Keep your day job, Nicole.” Waverly says over the dividing wall.

You gasp, “ouch, Waves!”

“I may have lost everything when I got arrested but my honesty was not one of those things,” Waverly says.

“Appreciate that,” you say as your water turns off.

You towel dry and wrap it around your body before stepping out. Waverly is there waiting for you with a smirk on her face. “We make a good duet,” she says. You roll your eyes, “ya maybe we can take the act on the road some day.”

You both giggle but get interrupted by an officer walking over, you both straighten your posture as he stands in front of you.

He turns his attention to you. “Nicole, you are being transferred for your trial, need to get you closer to the courthouse where the trail is. We will come get you this afternoon.” He hands you a paper with details. It’s in the city and starts tomorrow.

“Yes sir,” you reply.

You look at Waverly and she lets out a breath it seems she’s been holding in and puts her hand on your shoulder, “so it begins.”

 

——

You are sitting at the table you have claimed as yours and Wynonna’s, with a special guest appearance of Waverly every now and then when she isn’t doing her jail leader assigned duties. You maintain – her assertiveness lights your body on fire, even if its settling a dispute between two woman over the last pudding cup.

The closer 4pm gets the more nervous you are getting. The jail you are transferring to you know has a bad reputation. But you know you can handle it. You know by the end of it you’ll be on your way to your new home, the Earp Homestead.

“When you do you leave Haught?” Wynonna asks. You know she knows the answer, but you’ve been giggling your leg so bad her water cup was getting ripples in it. Your leg stops and your mind focuses on the conversation.

“4pm, then I’ll be back once the trial is over. Could be a day, could be weeks. Should be short though, since the evidence is so damning.”

 

Wynonna nods her head and Waverly walks over to join the conversation. “How you are holding up Nicole, ready?”You nervously smile, “ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Waves and I will be here till we get out. Should be pretty close together, and you can come back to the homestead and we can do whatever Lucado wants.” Wynonna says as she relaxes into her seat and puts her elbows on the table.

“Wynonna! Sh! Not here.” Waverly barks back.

Wynonna rolls her eyes at Waverly.

You forget about the time while hanging out with the Earps. They are slowly becoming a sense of comfort here, which makes you feel good.

You don’t feel good when the guard comes over to you. It’s time.

You don’t have any personal items, so you go with guard with some parting words from the sisters, mostly good lucks and comforting shoulder grabs. Waverly’s eyes stay on you the longest. You think she wants to say something further, but nothing comes out as you walk away and join the line to get shackled once more.

 

——

You walk in line, cuffs on and pinching your skin, and because you are walking outside you get the pleasure of the ankle cuffs, which makes walking more like short stepped waddling, but it gets you to the bus. It looks like a school bus, green thin seats, hard rubber floors and rows and rows of seats. The only difference is the plexiglass that separates you from the driver and metal bars outlining the seats the transport guards cuff you to.

You take a seat and get locked in but not a moment later Roxy sits across from you.

_Fucking Roxy._

She smirks at you. If you had control of your own hands, you’d probably pound the smirk off her face. You bite the inside of your lip instead till you taste the metallic blood of the mark you made.

Traveling in cuffs is the fucking worst. Every turn, every bump, you can’t balance your own body and feel like you could fall over at any moment. Your mind wanders to a morbid thought of the what if’s if the bus crashed. How the hell would you even get out?

You are elated when you reach your destination.

 

The jail is just outside the big city. It’s a one-story building with a brick wall perimeter and barbed wired garnish. It’s much different than the small jail you just came from. You are relieved Roxy is a few inmates behind you in line, if she pushed you again you would certainly fall face first to the gravel with the cuffs around your ankles and you generally like your teeth intact the way they are.

You make it inside the building, down the appropriate hallways that seem just as the last place, pale yellow walls, brown and yellow tile flooring. The officers make you line up against the wall and one by one you go into a room. There’s not much you can do but stare forward in line until it’s your turn. The air smells stale and slightly musty, and occasionally the door down the hall to the main jail opens and it sounds like a crowded bar.

When it’s your turn you go into the room, same check in routine as last time- strip, bend over, and spread em’. You are just thankful the cuffs are off. They give you different clothes to put back on, bright orange pants and top, a slight change from the stripes but a change none the less. These clothes are worse than the ones you came in with, the hems are frayed and there is a blood stain on the side.

You walk out and stand back in line behind the group that’s already been checked in. A guard comes by and hands you a blanket, a pillow, a towel and a bag with shower gear. It takes about 20 more minutes, but the line finally moves through a set of doors.

When you walk in you are stunned. You don’t notice your slacked jaw until you must close it.

 

_Fuck._

This place is what you’ve read about it in your criminal justice classes, the things you’ve only seen pictures of, the true ugly side of lockup. Its way overcrowded, it smells like ten different kinds of body odor and you see about 5 guards to 200, maybe 250 inmates at first glance in one fucking gigantic room.

There are rows and rows of bunk beds and inmates looking at you like you just stole their dog. You don’t even see the showers or bathrooms, just bunked up women, loud voices you can’t pick a single conversation from and you are scared.

You focus on your breathing, you haven’t had a panic attack in a while but you start to feel it in your throat and walls feel like they are closing in, but you are pretty good at hiding your attacks from others. The internal silent suffering has become second nature over the years when you have a reputation of confidence to protect. The dread moves to your chest, a heaviness you have to mentally push to your gut so you can breathe. In this moment you are glad you don’t have the cuffs on so you can pinch the skin between your thumb and index finger, a coping mechanism you learned when you were a teenager. The last time you had to use it was when you took your police entrance exams and about halfway through the test your mind went in full on panic mode. Currently the pinching is working, it’s just enough distraction to get you to walk from the door to the bunk the guard points at and yells “Haught!”.

You sling your shit onto the bed. You have the lower bunk and some stranger you don’t even bother asking her name is already sitting in the top bunk. There are shuffling bodies moving past you as you try to make your bed. You bend over farther across the bed to tuck the blanket in on the side you are not on, and someone runs right into your back side. You quickly must balance yourself on your freshly made bed and seeing the wrinkles pisses you off and it’s written all over your face. You slowly stand to see who knocked you over and it is none other than Roxy.

“Stay the fuck out of my way,” she says.

 

She is lucky you’re trying to work yourself out of panic attack and all you can do is grit your teeth as she smirks at you with her dark brown eyes. She’s making this tooth sucking, lip licking motion that you assume is supposed to be intimidating but it’s making you want to hurl. Also makes you want to grab her blonde ponytail and yank her hair out. You entertain her since she doesn’t seem to want to move now. “What the fuck did I ever do you?”

She tilts her head to the right and moves closer to your left ear. You raise an eyebrow and freeze in anticipation on how your body will need to react, but she just stops shy of her nose touching your cheek, like she is trying to tell you a secret. “I told you Haught, stay away from Waverly. You should have listened to me. I’ll see you around.”

You stay still as as walks past you, but she bumps your shoulder hard with her own and your body moves against its own will.

You take a seat on your bed; happy the bunk is tall enough you don’t have to slouch but you start to pity yourself once again. You had it all, a career path, a confidence, and you fucked it all up on one girl. You take a deep breath and try to exhale all the negativity. Your panic attack is slowly winding down and, in that moment, you remember yours and Waverly’s promise to each other- get your shit together when you get out. You focus on that and you don’t necessarily want to, but your mind also focuses on Waverly. The thought of her creates butterflies in your gut, but calming butterflies, a feeling of home, but you also don’t want to fall in the same pattern of relying on another person.

 

You lay down on your bed and just listen to sounds of your new home. It’s still so loud. There is laughter but it sounds cynical. There are bodies in motion, some hurried, some in slow motion moving outside, to the cafeteria or the line for the bathroom. You glance to your left, an empty bunk and beyond that you see three more sets of bunk beds before the cement wall. You glance to your right and can’t even fucking count or care to count how many sets before you see the door to the outside. You try to outstretch your legs, but they hit the metal bars at the foot of your bed. You can’t catch a break. You let your legs hang off to one side, at least on your back you can keep and eye on either side you. Peripheral vision, what a concept. You feel your eyes start to get heavy, you try to focus on how loud the room is, but your body is giving in.

When you blink your eyes open it’s relatively quiet. Mostly everyone is sleeping. There are hushed conversations from a couple spots in the room, but it’s darker, there’s dimmed spotlights in two corners of the room and guards standing, surveying the room below the light. The guards look different. The guards when you first arrived looked liked everyday police officers in uniform. These two guards reminded you of military officers, and the guns they have at attention were certainly not guns police officers carried on their hip. You only notice two of them, so you figure less guards, more intimidation.

Your bladder is screaming at you. You see the opening to the hall to the bathroom is missing it’s line out the door from before, so you take advantage. The only sigh of relief from this place is that there are separate toilets, with doors. How luxurious.

You finish emptying your bladder and wash your hands. This place even has soap. The best things just keep coming. But there isn’t a towel, so you wipe your hands on your probably dirty shirt.You do this while walking around a corner, not looking up or paying attention which is probably some jail rule you just broke. When you round the corner, it felt like you smacked into a wall- maybe you misjudged the size of the hall. You didn’t because when you look up it’s Roxy. You have no time to react. You glance down at her fist and you don’t know what but there is something heavy at the bottom of a sock she is swaying back forth, and her face displaying the same smugness it’s always has been. Then you feel a pressure to her wrists. You quickly snap your head back and see two other inmates holding your arms back.

 

_Fuck fuck fuck._

You struggle against their strength but it’s too much and being so late at night there isn’t a person in sight. Roxy tightens her grip on the sock and swings it right into your stomach. You let you body weight curl forward groaning in pain and the goons behind you holding your weight as Roxy does a repeat performance. You thought the first time hurt, you thought your gut was in your throat ready to come out, but the second time you are in so much pain you barely take a breath in, barely choke out, “what the fuck do you _want from me.”_

Roxy steps closer to you, you are still curled forward to the dirty tile floor and can only see her black slip on shoes. You feel her finger to your chin, forcing your head to look at her face.

“I’ve been thinking, I don’t think warnings work for you. You are going to stay away from Waverly, if you survive. Didn’t think she was into redheads.” She says in a low tone and a smile that fades as you watch her cock her fist back and connects it with your face. You immediately feel dazed and the pain level almost makes you pass out, almost - and you are very sure she broke your orbital bone and mouth is filled with blood.

Your hurt more than you ever have in your life, you should be yelling and screaming but instead you smile and laugh. It’s your typical tactic when you’re in pain, physically or emotionally, but in this moment,  it should probably be the opposite. When you laugh you decide it would be a great idea to spit the blood in your mouth right in Roxy’s face. It hit the target successfully and you smile in satisfaction as she wipes the red, thick drip down her cheek. The satisfaction is short lived, you see her bring her fist back once more. The last thing you see is white knuckles barreling towards your face.

 

——

You blink your eyes open. You are groggy. The room is bright. Too bright. You are laying down. You shift your body, but everything hurts. You try to bring your hand to your aching head but feel a tug back to the side of the bed and hear a clank of metal. You squint. You are handcuffed to the bed, _shit_. Your vision starts to get clearer, at least from one eye - you are in a hospital room. There is an IV in your arm and bandages on wrapped around your wrists and biceps. You see a stain of blood pressed through the gauze. You start to remember, it’s hazy, but you remember Roxy and her friends’ blows to your head, your torso, anything that could inflict pain on as you laid defenseless on the tile floor of the jail bathroom. _Fucking assholes._

There’s a call button wrapped around the side of the bed, you press it once, twice, three times for good measure. You close your eyes and try not to focus on a strand of hair that fell from behind your ear, tickling your nose as you hear footsteps. _Thank god, I need more drugs._

The footsteps stop, but the silence continues until you hear an even toned voice, “Nicole. Haught.”

 

_Shit._

You open your eyes. “Mayor Lucado.” The sounds leave your dry lips raspy; you clearly haven’t spoken in a while and your mouth is so dry you immediately cough.

She hands you a cup of water, you normally would sniff it, check it for drugs, but you need to breathe so you trust her for just a moment. She takes a seat in the chair next to your bed and crosses her legs, then arms and looks at you with a subtle smile you can’t place yet. She is in a black suit, perfectly fitted and her blonde hair is back in a tight bun -just like you’ve seen on all those tv ads for her campaign.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person.” She says, emphasizing the last part.

You’ve never met her but, you’ve heard rumblings around town that she plays a dirty political game and the elections are coming up. Shae was involved in her re-election campaign a few years ago and only heard about her. But, here she is, in the flesh.

You slightly sit up, letting the cuffs slowly slide down the bar as much as they can. You feel Lucado’s eyes on you as you struggle to find a new position. “What do I owe the pleasure?” You finally ask.

“Well I just wanted to see for myself who the Earps decided to bring on their team. Make sure my… assignment and investment are in good hands.” She cocks head to the left and smiles softly, but you know the tone behind her words was anything but soft.

 

“Sure thing.” You roll your eyes and she huffed out an audible breath.

“Also, I had some great news. You are free to go!” She stands up and pulls out a key from her pocket, briefly jiggling it from her fingers.

You are confused. “How- what – how long have I been here?”

“Ummmm…” she starts as she unlocks the cuffs that are tight on your wrist, before she does she tucks the hair in your eye behind your ear, probably some passive aggressive “I have power over you” move but you don’t flinch. When you feel the pressure of the metal relieved on your wrist, you pull your arms closer to your chest, a huge weight of relief escapes from your lungs. She rests her hands on the bed rails, body slightly hinged at the hip, “about a week. Your trial was missed but since you were… incapacitated, I was able to have them hand your sentence down without you there. All charges have been dropped and you can go home and work on…other things.”

 

You let the silence engulf the room.

 

She crosses her arms against her chest, “you can say ‘thank you’ whenever you’d like.”

You tighten your jaw and press your lips, “you could have led with that,” you say as you rub at the skin that was previously pinching against the cuffs.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, the nurse should be in to discharge you now that you are awake. Need you to get started with the Earps soon.”

You nod to her. You now notice your heart rate is racing.  She walks out and you hear her heels clicking on the tile start to fade, when you can no longer hear them you let the breath of air out you must have been holding in and start to slightly calm down. You know whatever is in store is going to be the dumbest shit you’ve gotten yourself in to but if it means some type of freedom moving forward, you’ll do it.

 

——

“Sorry kid, they typically don’t let us keep former inmates in here for longer than needed. Are you okay to stand up and change into your clothes?” The nurse before you was sweet. She knew you were in pain, but also knew she had to do her job and get you out of here. She took some final vitals, took out your IV and re-bandaged some stitches in your arms and face.

You slowly sit up and adjust your hospital gown, making sure your ass doesn’t hang out for the entire hall to see as you try to stand on your own. The nurse helps you balance and hands you a bag of the clothes you came into jail with. The blood stains of when you resisted arrest were dried on the torso of the shirt. She shuts the privacy curtain and you slowly move to put on your underwear, bra, shirt and jeans. Every move felt sore, your range of motion was limited by sharp pains and you finally see the purple bruising all over stomach and ribs. You swear you can almost see a shoe print. Once you get your clothes on, you head to the bathroom. Your first real look in a mirror was shocking. Your left eye was almost swollen shut and purple, you had scraps on your cheeks and near your right temple and forehead were stitches.  You’ve looked better and somehow you feel worse than you look.

“Sweetie all good in there?” You hear from the other side of the door.

“I’m good.” You manage to say.

You open the door and she offers you a smile. “Your chariot awaits.” She says this as she swings around a wheelchair.

“Oh, I’m good I can walk on my own.”

“I wish this was optional, hospital policy. Take a load off and I’ll wheel you out to your sister.” You take a seat and correct her, “oh I don’t have a sister.”

She stops pushing the chair. “Well then dear there is a very antsy dark-haired woman out there claiming to be your sister, and your ride, if she isn’t, I will need to take you back inside.”

“Oh. Um, ya sorry, must be still tired.” You figure it’s Wynonna, so you let the nurse continue to the door.

When she gets past the sliding doors you immediately see a beat up blue and white truck, one door is a piece of plywood and the muffler is expelling so much fumes you’re afraid that if you inhale you’ll have to go right back in. The second thing you see is Wynonna’s fucking perfect hair. You sharply inhale, expecting to see Waverly but there is a flood of relief when she is nowhere is sight.

“Red! Came to bust ya out, let’s go get a beer!”

The nurse helps you out of the chair and shoots you a look like a disappointed mother. “No drinking on those meds dear.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Buzzkill.” Wynonna says as she tucks an arm into yours and helps you into the truck.

You finally hop into the truck. It’s cleaner than you thought.

“Christ Haught, I know Roxy kicked the shit out of you but man, your face.”

“Thanks, asshole." You put down the mirror in front of you, surprise you still look like shit. "And how do you know it was her?”

“Oh, she got busted and tried to call Waverly. Probably never getting out. Which is good news for you, and your face.” Wynonna said as she had a hand on the wheel and keep peeking over at you.

“Also, Nicole look don’t be pissed, but I contacted Shea, and had all your shit sent to our house.”

“Oh. Um- I Uh, thanks.” You are shocked Wynonna was that considerate.

“It’s no big deal, Waverly set your room up, just felt kinda bad about the whole ‘you got the shit kicked out of you by Waverly’s jail boo’ thing.”

You nod, “right.”

Waverly. Another piece to this confusing puzzle. You shouldn’t feel angry with her, but you are. You know it’s not her fault that Roxy kicked the shit out of you, but a warning she was a loose cannon would have been nice. You know you have to work together but you are not ready for complicated again, or ever.

The rest of the ride was relatively quite besides a few moments of Wynonna’s singing. Hanson. Of course.

The town she drives you through feels two minutes long. A bar, a strip club, a bank, a police station, a post office, and café. Once you pass Main Street it you enter the country- just miles and miles of mountains and you aren’t complaining. You go deeper into them, you never thought anyone actually lives out here until the truck turned down a dirt road and now you can see a house and barn sitting among acres and acres of land. Out in the distance you think you also see a roof of a green house.

“Wow, this is nice.” You say as Wynonna turns the truck off.

She smiles, “it’s not much, but we’ve fixed it up a lot since Ward and Willa died.”

She gets out and helps you down, the gravel under your feet even hurt at this point and the car ride made you cramp up in all the spots that were trying to heal. You walk up to the door and enter the home. It was nice, lots of wood, an older country theme throughout but, it feels like a home. There are discarded boots near the front door, it smells like cookies and whiskey and as you follow Wynonna you pass the kitchen, you catch a glimpse of children’s drawings on the refrigerator and a coffee mug on the table, then the living room, a simple couch and a couple comfy looking chairs with a blanket tossed over each. There is a fireplace that looks well used by a dwindling pile of wood next to it and a small bathroom a few feet from it.

Wynonna walks into a room and it looks cozy as you step in be behind her. A bed, a dresser, a small closet. Some of your stuff is on the dresser – lotions and a photo of you and your brother. Your clothes are hanging in the closet.

“Thanks, you didn’t have do this.” You offer.

“Oh, hell no, I didn’t Haught stuff, Waverly did.”

“ _Hey.”_ You hear from behind you.

“Alice is out in the barn waiting for her martial arts training.” Waverly says to Wynonna.

Wynonna rolls her eyes and leaves immediately.

“Holy shit Nicole are you ok?” Waverly moves to your side immediately and you feel her hand to your cheek ever so slightly, but you flinch. Partly because you are in pain but also you just don’t want her touching you. She immediately takes her hand back.

“I’m sorry.” She says with concern and sincerity.

You finally get a good look at her. She looks so different but still so beautiful from her jail clothes. Simple jeans and a tank top, but her hair was flowing around her shoulders, but her smile and eyes were  the same and still to the point that made you week in the knees. You wish you weren’t so pissed.

“Um, look Waverly. I- Roxy she um did this because I was around and talking to you. That’s just a mess of complicated I’m not looking for right now.” You are a coward and couldn’t even say this while looking at her in the eye, well the eye you could see out of, but when you finally did, she looked so sad.

“No, no I know. I, um wish I could have stopped that. Seeing you now and knowing how much pain you’re in is the worst feeling I’ve felt in a while. And I get it. But Nicole I do like you and I know we have a job to do but I’m just glad you’re ok and you’re here. Safe. And I promise Roxy will never come near you ever again. Ill make sure of it. It was a stupid hook up and she’s well, Roxy.”

You nod your head, ‘hook up’, you knew it, she was with Roxy, but even so the confirmation of it made the burn of jealously flare in your gut, “I can handle myself.” That came out harsh, but you don’t care in this moment. “If we could just keep it to the assignment, I’d like that. We can start there. But I just can’t, I can’t be involved in shit like that. I don’t deserve it and I’m really trying to get my act together.”

Waverly steps closer and all you want to do is go back on your word, but you don’t. “I know you can handle yourself, and you do Nicole, you deserve so much better and I’m so sorry, I am and just, let me know if you need anything.”

Waverly starts to walk out but you speak up, “Waverly.” She turns around with a sad smile. “Thank you.” You point around the room, “for all this, means a lot.”

Her smile went more pleased, “you’re welcome, and really just let me know if you need anything.”

She leaves and you sigh. The room still smells like her sweet perfume and the silence feels like it consumes you in a strange place. This might be harder than you thought but for now all you need is a warm shower and a nap.


End file.
